Chapter 2
Carl said nothing.
In the end, I couldn't argue with him. I put the clothes on.
I tugged at the sleeves in front of the mirror. It felt awkward.
"You look good," he said.
"It's weird," I complained.
"Not at all. Beautiful."
"Nobody will call a man beautiful."
He turned my face toward him and kissed me again. "But you are beautiful."
The market was much bigger than I'd imagined.
The werewolf market and the vampire one were two completely different worlds.
Vampire markets were quiet, restrained. Vendors sat in the shadows without speaking. Buyers exchanged a few low words, then left like thieves after the transaction. But here...
"Fresh venison. Hunted this morning."
"Sheepskin blankets. Get one for your she-wolf before winter!"
"Beef jerky. Pups and elders love it!"
It was lively.
"What do you want to eat?" Carl asked.
I shook my head. I actually wanted cake, but there didn't seem to be any here.
Just then, the sound of synchronized footsteps came from ahead.
I looked up and saw a squad of wolves in black uniforms approaching from the end of the street.
They were all built like tanks, eyes scanning the crowd with sharp vigilance. People automatically parted to let them through.
It was the patrol.
The tall man leading them had cold features and long blond hair tied back. His dark coat added to his commanding presence.
He looked a bit like Carl.
"Who's that?" I whispered.
Carl's expression changed. He tightened his grip on my hand and pulled me closer, voice low. "Sephus. An old relic."
Carl cupped my face with both hands, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Stay away from him."
"Why?"
"He hates vampires more than anyone," Carl's expression was serious. "If you see him, avoid him. He'll kill you."
Was he really that terrifying? I nodded solemnly, "I'll remember."
Only then did he relax, ruffling my hair and pressing a kiss to my forehead.
I wanted to open a bakery in the market.
Back in vampire territory, no one liked cake, so I'd never considered it.
But now, standing in the kitchen, staring at the cake I'd made, I zoned out for a long time.
Would werewolf children like cake?
Then Carl came home.
He followed the scent into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, "What smells so good?"
"Cake." I forked a small piece and held it to his lips. "Try it."
He took a bite.
He chewed twice, and his eyes lit up, "It's good."
I hesitated, then spoke. "I want to open a bakery in the market.
"I think people might like it." I grew a little nervous, my fingers tightening around the fork, "And I don't have much to do at the manor anyway..."
I trailed off. His gaze was too intense.
"Do it," he said.
"Huh?"
"Do it. I'll find you a place tomorrow."
"That fast?"
He ruffled my hair, tone matter-of-fact. "My wife wants to open a shop. Of course we're opening one."
The place was ready in three days.
The shop stood on the busiest corner of the market in a two-story building with a loft.
Carl had it renovated with a new oven, a new counter, and even a new wooden sign out front.
The sign read "Moonlight Bakery."
I stood at the entrance, staring at the carved letters on the sign. My eyes stung.
"What, you don't like it?" Carl asked.
I replied, "No, I love it."
"Good." He leaned down, close to my ear.
On opening day, my hands shook with excitement.
The cakes sold fast. Werewolves were curious about new food.
By two in the afternoon, everything was sold out.
I closed the shop, packed the best cake in a cardboard box, and brought it home for Carl.
But halfway through eating, the atmosphere shifted.
I knew that look too well.
"Wait," I scooted back. "You just ate cake..."
"I'm done eating. Now it's time for..." he said.
"Carl..."
He scooped me off the couch, threw me over his shoulder, and headed upstairs.
I squirmed on his shoulder, but it was completely useless.
"The cake's still out," I said.
"We'll clean it up tomorrow," he replied.
"The box will attract ants."
"Let the ants have it."
I had no answer.
My brain quickly turned to mush.
He kissed away my tears one by one, murmuring "good boy," "only a little longer," and "almost done." But his definition of "almost" was clearly different from mine.
The scene shifted downstairs.
When Sephus pushed open the door, the lights in the hall were still on.
He took off his dusty coat and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table.
The cold water slid down his throat. He closed his eyes briefly, then turned toward the stairs.
Then he saw the cardboard box on the table.
The box bore the name "Moonlight Bakery."
The white box had curling script printed on it, along with a crescent moon.
The lid wasn't closed properly. A corner of golden cake peeked out, cream layered with deep red berries.
He stood by the table, looking down at the box.
His subordinate had reported today, "That vampire opened a bakery in the market. Called Moonlight."
He stared at the cake, his silver-gray eyes darkening.
He reached out, gripped the edge of the box with his long fingers, and tossed it and the golden cake inside into the trash bin beside him.
The cake hit the bottom with a dull thud.
He thought, 'What bakery?
'Probably a vampire intelligence outpost.
'Cunning, as expected.'
He turned and headed for the stairs, boots striking the marble floor. Thud, thud, thud.
A few seconds later, he turned and strode down the stairs, moving twice as fast as when he'd come up.
"Idiot." The word came out low, like it had been forced through clenched teeth.
Sephus hadn't meant to take this route.
But somehow, by the time he realized it, he was already here.
The patrol followed behind him, their steps synchronized, armor clanking in rhythm.
He walked at the front, gaze fixed ahead, expression blank.
As he passed the bakery, he heard the sound of shattering glass.
Then came laughter, sharp, grating.
Someone laughed, "A vampire-run shop and you're charging money?"
"Let me taste it and see if you mixed blood into this cake," another said.
Someone else burst out laughing. "Look at him, shaking like a rabbit."
Sephus didn't stop.
It was not his problem. Market disputes happened every day, and the patrol would handle it.
He kept walking.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the vampire.
Several werewolves had him surrounded. The display case was smashed, glass shards scattered across the floor, cakes trampled into the debris beyond recognition.
The lead werewolf grabbed him by the hair, shoving a piece of cake into his mouth.